I'm Home, Kitty Kat
by Lacrimosa Cruentus Luna
Summary: Yet another take on what might have happened the night Kat and Hale met. One-shot.


**And here it is, the millionth take on what happened the night Kat met Hale. God, I love this prompt.**

**DISCLAIMER: ****Heist Society? Yeah, still not mine. **

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><p>"<em><strong>I'm the guy who happened to be home the night Kat came to steal a Monet."<strong>_

_**-W.W. Hale the Fifth**_

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><p>Due to roughly fourteen years of being left behind by his parents, W.W. Hale the Fifth was accustomed to being alone. The emptiness of his home in rural New York was like a familiar cold jacket, the lack of noise his cruel lullaby. So when he heard the floorboards creak downstairs, he knew something was wrong.<p>

Marcus was fast asleep, just like he was every night at two in the morning, so Hale knew it wasn't him. That only left one solution: a cat had broken into the house. Again.

Hale gritted his teeth.

He liked cats, really he did, but they always left dead animals and stained the rugs, which lead to Hale getting scolded for no reason at all. Strangely enough, no one ever seemed to believe him when he insisted he was innocent. With a low sigh, Hale pulled himself out of his bed and closed his book silently. He walked down the stairs, careful to not make a sound. He'd learned quickly that if he scared the cat too soon, he'd never catch it.

Hale crept down the stairs, following the soft creaking sounds. It occurred to him that this cat must be a particularly fat one for all the sound it was making.

"Here, kitty kitty," Hale called soothingly. "Here kitty cat."

And then he heard a soft voice muttering curses. A girl's voice. Hale raised his eyebrows. No cat he'd ever known could curse like that. No cat he'd ever known could curse at all.

Hale walked into the hall and found the girl in question, her gloved-hands on the Monet he had hanging on the wall. She was frozen, staring at Hale. He blinked.

"Well, you're awful large for a cat," he observed.

"How do you know my name?" the little thief asked suspiciously.

"Your...wait." Hale chuckled. "Your name is Cat? Like the animal?" He was impressed with how dead-on he'd been about her name.

"No," the girl said. "Kat. Like short for Katarina."

"I cannot believe you just told the guy you failed to rob your name," Hale said, smirking. Kat released the Monet, huffing angrily. She crossed her arms and glowered at Hale.

"You aren't supposed to be here," she told him.

"I think that's my line," Hale said. "After all, I live here, and you broke in, Kitty Kat."

"Don't call me that," Kat growled. Hale took a step closer. And another. And another. Kat didn't move.

"Call you what?" he said. "Kitty Kat? I think the name fits. I thought you were a cat, you know, when I came down here. Strays get in all the time. I guess I was sort of right, _Kat_."

"You think you're funny, don't you?" Kat said.

"I know for a fact that I'm hilarious," Hale corrected her. "I've been told as much."

"By your mother?" asked Kat. It was so strange. She had tried to steal from him, but all Hale wanted to do was sit down and tell her everything, when he really ought to be calling the police or something (despite the fact that W.W. Hale the Fifth and the police had had some..._misunderstandings_ in the past that had lead to a deep dislike between the two parties). Upon further studying of the girl, Hale realized that she couldn't have been any older than him. In fact, she was so small that she didn't even look twelve. All of these thoughts flew through Hale's mind quickly, leaving behind them only one thing: the truth.

"My mother," Hale said lightly, "hasn't seen me in such a long time that I don't think she would remember my first name if I wasn't the fifth to be named it." There was a painful silence in which a lot of emotions ran across Kat's face.

"And what is your first name?" she said at last, surprising Hale, although he refused to show it.

"I'll never tell," Hale said, grinning devilishly once again.

"So what do I call you?"

"Who says I want you to call me anything?"

"Well, I've found that conversation gets strange when you're talking to someone without a name for a long period of time." It was a promise, Hale realized. She was going to stay. Temporarily. Could she really tell how lonely he was?

"You can call me Hale," he said.

"But that's your last name," Kat protested. "I want to know what the W's stand for."

"You can't steal my secrets, Kitty Kat," Hale said loftily. "You can guess all you like, but I suggest we just stick with Hale."

"Whatever you say...Washington," Kat said. Hale laughed harder than he'd laughed in a long time. Kat scowled.

"Wallaby?" she guessed again.

"Not even," Hale said.

Kat growled angrily.

"Whatever," she repeated.

"That's not my name either," Hale told her. Kat scowled.

"Don't make fun of me," she said.

Hale just grinned at her before he asked, "So, can I ask why your paws were all over my Monet?"

"I was trying to clean it," Kat said sarcastically. Hale silently gave her props for that one. But then curiosity struck him like lightening.

"Really though," he said, his tone serious at last. He pulled up a chair and gestured for Kat to sit in it. Warily, she did and Hale plopped down in the chair beside her. "Tell me everything," he said, his eyes pleading. Kat sighed.

"Uncle Eddie is gonna _kill me_," she said.

"Uncle Eddie?"

Kat was silent and perfectly still for a moment before she said, "My whole family...we're all thieves. Whether we're related or not, we sort of band together. We work jobs together, we have dinner together. Christmas is crazy, as you can imagine. God knows, I don't really want this life. But there isn't much that can be done."

"Family," Hale said wistfully. He forgot that Kat was only six inches away from him. He was lost in his imagination, dreaming up a world where he sat at a crowded table eating dinner every night with people who loved him. In his world he was surrounded by warmth. In Hale's make-believe world, he had a family.

"Hale?" Kat asked worriedly. Hale blinked, looking at Kat, remembering that in the real world, he ate dinner by himself every night. In the real world, Hale was alone. In the real world, Hale didn't have a family.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Are you okay?" The concern was what really caught Hale off guard. He wasn't used to be looked at that way. He wanted to be looked at that way more often.

"Can I touch you, Kat?" Hale asked without thinking.

"Uh, what?"

"Can I...can I hug you? Please?"

He didn't like to lower himself to such a sad level, but he was bordering desperate. Hale wondered how much Kat really knew about him. She seemed like an okay thief, even if he had caught her, and so she probably knew a lot about him. He told himself that was the only reason that Kat inched forward and wrapped her arms around him.

This was home, Hale thought as he pulled her closer. This was family.

He wished he could keep Kat to himself, be able to touch her, to remember this feeling every day. He wished he could hold her hand. He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulders daily, knowing she wouldn't protest. He even imagined dancing with her, although the image flashed behind his eyes so quickly that it was gone before he had time to comprehend it. But Kat had a family who would miss her. Hale couldn't keep her as part of his world.

So Hale let her go and sat back, still studying her. She'd turned a soft shade of pink, much to his amusement.

"How old are you, Kitty Kat?" he said.

"Thirteen," Kat said.

"You been a thief long?"

"Since I was three."

There were lots of things he wanted to ask her right then, but he didn't ask her any of them.

"You owe me something," Hale said finally.

"What?" Kat asked suspiciously.

"You owe me," Hale repeated. "I mean really, you try to rob me and I don't call the cops. Don't you think you owe me?"

"I gave you my name," Kat pointed out.

"I want to see you again, Kitty Kat," Hale told her. He waited patiently for her reaction. To his surprise, she didn't miss a beat.

"And I want your name, Waverly," Kat retorted. Hale grinned.

"Then you'll just have to keep coming around," he said.

"I won't ever stop guessing," Kat warned him. "Not ever."

She made it sound like she was coming back. Hale didn't know if he believed her or not. And even if she did come back, the space between her visits would still be as miserable as ever. But Hale wanted to believe her. He wanted to have faith that she would come visit him again.

"Hale?" Kat said timidly.

"Hm?"

"I have to leave now. People will wonder where I've gone. As it is, I'm going to be in enough trouble for not getting the Monet."

"Maybe you should try to steal it again next time you visit," Hale told her. Kat smiled.

"Maybe I will," she said. "Bye, Hale." With a wave, she went to the window and climbed out, looking very cat-like indeed.

The problem with cats, Hale realized right then, is that you can't help but want to follow them, wherever they go.

Hale wanted to follow Kat.

So he scribbled a note for Marcus, saying that he'd gone out to find a cat and he would be back by lunch. Then he rushed out the front door, thankful he was still in his day clothes.

He kept a safe distance between Kat and himself the entire journey, but Kat never turned around.

He was impressed to see that she walked the whole way, weaving through buildings when they got to the city. Several times he was sure that she knew he was following her and she was trying to lose him, but that couldn't be true because at long last, they reached a Brooklyn brownstone that Hale assumed was Kat's home.

Hale watched Kat knock on the door. A tall man answered. He looked at Kat and hugged her.

"Hi, Dad," Kat mumbled. Jealousy seared through Hale. He wanted a father.

The door closed as Kat stepped inside, blocking out the cold wind.

Hale must have waited ten minutes before he finally found the courage to go over to the door he'd seen Kat enter through and knock himself.

It was Kat who answered. She blinked.

"Hale," she said. Hale noticed that Kat didn't look surprised to see him. It was almost as if she'd been expecting him to follow. But he didn't get a chance to ask her. There were footsteps as people began to crowd around behind Kat, staring at the stranger who was leaning against the wall with eyes only for Kat. He pushed his light brown hair out of his face.

"Hey, Kitty Kat," Hale said smoothly, ignoring the bewildered (and slightly dangerous) looks on the faces of everyone else. Hale found that whenever he looked at Kat, he couldn't help but think, _I'm home. _

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><p><strong>Anyway, was it good? Did it suck? Too cheeseball? Absolutely ridiculous? Mediocre? Review?<strong>


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